


Then My Own Dear, Come Here, Come Here

by SweetSorcery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Attraction, Clothed Sex, Desk Sex, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, First Time, Humor, Kissing, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Male Slash, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:18:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius Malfoy is horrified at Draco's relationship with Harry Potter, and he decides to put a stop to it. The method he chooses is rather questionable and not altogether successful. Or is it?<br/>(H/D is very much only a secondary pairing in this fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then My Own Dear, Come Here, Come Here

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon referred to within belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros. Inc., and possibly others. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Nowhere except here, and not in translated form either.
> 
> Beta: The fantastic, amusing, fair and high-speed Mizstorge! If any mistakes have sneaked into this post-beta, it happened because I couldn't leave well enough alone.

Lucius stared at the photograph held in his fingers in disbelief: Harry Potter, of all people, was smiling up at him and blowing him a kiss. He raised his eyes to fix on his son's and said, with barely controlled temper, "Tell me, Draco... what, in Merlin's name, are you doing with this?" He spat the last word as if it tasted bad, flapping the offending item in the air.

Draco stood at the opposite end of the Malfoy drawing room, fidgeting. "Father, I can explain."

"Then, by all means, do so." Lucius took a few steps closer, and Draco retreated behind a massive wing back chair. "Immediately."

Draco met his father's eyes, not exactly defiantly - defiance did not come to him naturally - but as steadily as he could manage under the circumstances. "I'm in love with Harry," he said quietly. 

Lucius looked at him silently, with narrowed eyes, long enough that it made Draco want to burst into tears. At least until Lucius began to roar with laughter, and it was Draco's turn to get angry.

"I am, father, and there's nothing you can do about it! I'm of age, as is Harry."

Lucius stopped laughing to assess his son with interest. He was impressed. Once upon a time, Draco would have shrunk back in fear in a situation like this. Of course, it would make no difference; a Malfoy infatuated with Harry Potter was absolutely out of the question. He smiled benignly.

"Well, well, Draco, I see your mind is indeed made up." Draco nodded, but he looked worried. "In that case, there's really only one thing for me to do. Invite your paramour to join you here next weekend, and we'll see how we all get along. After all..." He smiled in a distinctly unsettling fashion, "it may be time to let bygones be bygones with our once-enemies."

Draco stared at him in wide-eyed confusion. He had clearly expected more resistance. Much, much more resistance. Confused as he was, and it really was quite a task to predict his father's reactions at the best of times, he had no intention of refusing an offer like this. He was, frankly, fed up sneaking around with Harry behind his father's back.

"Thank you, father," he said cautiously.

Lucius nodded. He was still smiling. And while Draco had his suspicions, he didn't know for a fact that he was plotting, as well.

* * * * * *

Lucius stood in his small private potions lab behind the library's secret panel, assessing his collection of ingredients dubiously: red rose petals, forget-me-not and heart's ease flowers, rosemary oil and finely ground moonstone. He had intentionally avoided the most obvious of love potions: Amortentia. It was simply too easy to detect by taste. Instead, he had opted for an ancient recipe found in a rarely perused volume of the Malfoy library: _Bewitching the Heart with Spells and Potions_. He hadn't spent an undue amount of time choosing among the numerous recipes, but had instead opted for one with common and largely flavourless ingredients, and though he had admittedly never found the need to brew a love potion before in his life, it appeared a simple and straightforward enough venture. And after all, it would take very little to turn a 20 year old wizard's head, especially in his direction.

He began to brew the potion, reciting the accompanying spell as directed in the book. Why did ancient love spells have to be so dreadfully syrupy? 

Love I brew, love I brew,  
The One I want  
Come to me, and woo.  
I brew, I brew;  
Then my own dear,  
Come here, come here,  
And woo, and woo! 

Awful. But, it would do for Harry Potter, he was sure. The effect would wear off within 24 hours - plenty of time to embarrass the Saviour of the Wizarding World, not to mention put Draco off the whole thing and thus end the entire foolish business.

* * * * * *

Harry had been reluctant to accept Draco's invitation to Wiltshire for the weekend. Voldemort was dead and gone, the Death Eaters (Narcissa Malfoy included) disbanded and in Azkaban for life, and Lucius Malfoy cleared of the whole thing with claims of having been under Imperius; hard to believe, but Veritaserum was supposedly infallible. For all that, the idea of staying at Malfoy Manor for two whole days was something he didn't relish in the least. However, it seemed to mean a lot to Draco to get his father on their side, so he went along, vowing to keep his wand handy at all times and his wits about him.

They arrived on Friday evening, just after seven o'clock, and house elves busied themselves settling Harry into the room right next to Draco's. They'd have preferred to simply share Draco's bedroom, but pure-blood notions of propriety were apparently still observed at the manor.

Harry looked around his room, trying not to be impressed. Like the rest of the manor, from what he'd seen of it so far, it was large, elegantly furnished, and very comfortable. He imagined a king would have no quarrels with the accommodations. On Draco's advice - well, pleading really - he changed into a dark suit for dinner. He decided to forego the tie; he was not that determined to impress Lucius Malfoy.

At five minutes before eight, a house elf popped up at the foot of the bed, startling Harry. "Dinner is served, Master Harry. Dimpy is taking sirs to the dining room. Master Draco is ready."

Before Harry could answer, there was a knock on the door, at the same instant as it was opened and Draco hurried inside.

"Ready, Harry?" he asked, and there was nervous excitement in his voice. 

"As ready as I'll ever be." Harry sighed, tugging at his collar uncomfortably.

"You look great." Draco sauntered across the room and smirked, reaching for the lapels of Harry's jacket and leaning in to kiss him. They both ignored the house elf's embarrassed squawk. "Let's go. Father doesn't like me to be unpunctual."

"Draco..." Harry was going to point out that Draco was too old to worry to this degree about his father's opinion, and also that he would rather dine with a horde of giants on the rampage than with Malfoy Sr, but at Draco's pleading look, he instead just nodded and attempted a smile.

When they entered the dining room, Harry gaped at the long, impressively laid out table: there were carafes of wine, crystal goblets, pheasant, roast beef, duchess potatoes, minted peas, asparagus spears with Hollandaise sauce, a variety of salads and, of course, the finest china and silverware. 

Lucius Malfoy was seated at the head of the table. As they entered, he stood and walked towards them, smiling.

Harry looked at him curiously. He had not seen Lucius Malfoy since the defeat of Voldemort and, evidently, the man had fully regained his former bearing and appearance. His light hair shone in the light provided by candles, a large fireplace, and a single, finely polished chandelier. He was dressed head to foot in dark blue velvet and brocade, which complimented his skin and emphasised a very faint blue glint in his pale eyes. He looked regal and self-confident and, naturally - being a Malfoy, somewhat smug, but no less attractive for all that. And he was talking; greeting them, in fact.

"Draco, it's wonderful to have you home for the weekend." He didn't hug his son, but he clasped him firmly around the shoulders and smiled at him. And then he turned to Harry who, realising he'd been staring, drew himself up and raised his guard. "Harry, welcome to Malfoy Manor. It's so good of you to accept my invitation." He held out his hand, and Harry took it; it was warm and held his firmly.

"Thank you for inviting me, Mr Malfoy," Harry said, remembering his manners. He was well aware he was still gaping at the man, but he couldn't seem to stop; what was wrong with him?

"My pleasure." Lucius Malfoy's smile was rather disconcerting, Harry thought. "I admit, I was surprised to learn that you and Draco have grown so close," he reached out to clasp his son's shoulder once again, only then slowly letting Harry's hand slide from the grasp of the other, "but I am, of course, delighted."

Harry doubted that very much, but he smiled politely. His hand felt very warm. "I'm glad, sir."

Lucius Malfoy assessed him for an uncomfortably long moment, and Harry wondered what he might be thinking. This was a new expression he could not remember seeing from him before. Finally, Malfoy took a step back and made a sweeping gesture towards the dinner table. "Shall we?"

The food was delicious, and Harry found himself slowly relaxing into the strange situation. Draco still seemed very much on edge, and kept throwing suspicious glances at his father, who spent a lot of time looking at Harry. At the same time, Harry seemed to go out of his way to avoid looking at his host.

Lucius was, indeed, watching their dinner guest. He compared the handsome, well dressed, well-mannered young man opposite Draco to the scruffy, skinny boy who had once liberated his house elf and got him thrown into Azkaban. He was unsure why it had not occurred to him that Potter might have changed quite drastically since the final battle. His hair was still a mess - but a more artfully arranged one now; he still wore glasses - but they had glinting metal frames in a shape to suit his square-jawed, and yet somehow delicate, face. And he wore his suit well, but he kept adjusting the shirt collar as if it was too tight - even with the top two buttons undone. Lucius would have preferred it had they not been undone; it would have made it impossible to compulsively watch every movement of the Adam's apple when Potter swallowed his food.

Now and then, Potter would glance at him, very briefly, as if aware of the scrutiny. And aware he may well be, as Lucius had a hard time not scrutinising him. Really, the half-blooded pup was too distracting by far. It was high time he put his plan into action.

"You're not drinking any wine, Harry," Lucius Malfoy said at last, just before they finished the main meal. "Would you prefer something else?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't really drink wine very often, Mr Malfoy," he said.

"Well, this is an excellent vintage from Spain, I've had it imported especially for the occasion. Won't you try some?" His tone was genial, almost pleading.

Harry figured as the man was doing his best to be polite - and really, his manner towards Harry had been impeccable so far, and one could almost forget they had been enemies once - it was only right he should do his part in making the evening something of a success.

"As you went through so much trouble, sir, I think I will try some, thanks."

"Excellent. Let me pour you a glass." Malfoy rose and moved around the table. As he stopped beside Harry, carafe in hand, he called across the table, "Draco, would you ring for the house elves? I think we'll be ready for dessert very soon."

"Of course, father." Draco stood and went to ring the bell beside the fireplace.

"Harry, I really am delighted we're getting along so well," Lucius said quietly, and Harry looked up at him in surprise while he was pouring his wine. It was easy to tip the small ampoule of potion into the glass while Potter was distracted, and Lucius knew his expensive aftershave and probably quite unexpected words did their part as well.

"So am I," Harry said, with a touch of surprise in his voice. Lucius Malfoy was still leaning over him, even though he had finished pouring the wine. There was a curious look in the man's eyes, and a strange thought came to Harry that if Malfoy should choose to mesmerise someone, he would have no trouble succeeding. And if his eyes didn't do the trick, his smile certainly would. Harry told himself firmly to be on his guard.

It was, of course, too late.

The main meal was soon finished, and by the time they were halfway through the Peach Melba, Harry was feeling very peculiar. It started with dizziness, and then heat. He felt so hot. He became aware that Draco was trying to get his attention.

"Harry, are you all right? You don't look well."

Harry looked across the table at him and nodded. "I'm fine," he lied.

"You do look flustered, Harry, are you quite sure? I hope dinner didn't disagree with you?" 

Harry's breath caught in his throat, and he turned his head to look at Draco's father. He felt as if he was seeing him for the first time: Lucius Malfoy was... he was... quite simply the most exciting, attractive man he had ever seen in his life. And his voice, oh his voice!

"I feel faint," Harry muttered. He could barely focus on anything in the room except Lucius Malfoy. Draco's worried voice was an unintelligible murmur somewhere far away, but his father was speaking again, sounding concerned and solicitous, and Harry rose from his chair and moved towards him as if pulled by a string. 

Lucius had moved his chair back from the table and was looking at him expectantly. "Harry, do you need a medi-wizard?" he was asking.

Harry shook his head. He had almost reached him. Lucius Malfoy seemed to glow with an unearthly light, and it was beckoning him closer. "I need..." he murmured. "I..." And then the dizziness overwhelmed him, and his knees gave in.

Lucius just managed to reach out his arms and catch Harry before he passed out. 

"Merlin! What's happening? Father?" Draco called out, rushing to the side of Lucius' chair, touching Harry's cheek helplessly with one hand and shaking his arm by the wrist with the other. "What's wrong with him?"

Lucius looked up at his son, then down at the young man who had fainted across his lap. "I don't know, Draco," he said, and it was not entirely a lie. He was unaware that Draco frowned at him. He had not expected the fainting. Nor, for that matter, had he expected his own reactions to Harry Potter throughout the evening. And he certainly had not expected to be having qualms about the potion he had used nonetheless. "Fetch some Pepper-Up Potion from my lab. I'll take him upstairs where he can lie down. I expect he's coming down with something."

Draco said nothing, but he hurried from the dining room.

Lucius stood and shifted Harry to a better position in his arms. He followed Draco out of the room, but where Draco had turned towards the library and his lab, he took a right and started up the stairs. He looked down at his strange burden, confused. Was it some kind of allergic reaction to one of the ingredients? Had he used too much moonstone? He had intended to humiliate Potter and break up this foolish tryst between him and Draco, but it wouldn't do to kill him. Not anymore, not in this new era. And he did not actually want to kill him.

Harry started coming to about halfway up the staircase. He moaned softly and opened his eyes. "Lucius," he whispered, sounding awed. "Where are you taking me?"

"To your room. You passed out, I'm afraid," Lucius said hesitantly, briefly stopping on the next landing. "How are you feeling now?"

Harry gave him a luminous smile. "I feel wonderful." He snuggled into Lucius' arms, wrapping his hands around the back of his neck and drawing himself up closer. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

Lucius felt he should laugh. His plan was, after all, succeeding beautifully. And then Harry shifted quickly, sliding out of his arms and coming to stand on his own two feet. His hands were still around the back of Lucius' neck, however, and he pressed hard up against him. Rubbed himself against him, in fact.

Lucius opened his mouth to say something, he was not entirely sure what, when Harry kissed him hard. Kissed and pressed close and sighed into his mouth, his fingers in Lucius' hair, hips grinding against Lucius' hips.

'Sweet Merlin!' Lucius thought. This was a love potion, not a lust potion! Potter should be declaring his undying love for him, not mauling him in a deserted stairway. Why had he taken him upstairs anyway? And why was he as hard as Potter himself?

"Lucius," Potter whispered into his half open mouth, then moaned and kept on kissing him, his hips thrusting forward, his tongue tangling with Lucius' tongue.

Lucius' ability to think at all was gone, and he heard himself groaning, and then his hands were on Potter's hips, halting the thrusts by pressing him hard against himself, before his hands travelled up his back, underneath the suit jacket. The skin was hot through the thin white shirt, almost burning hot. He wanted to feel more of it, without the shirt in the way, and he started to pull it roughly out of Potter's trousers at the back. The first touch of his hands on bare skin caused them both to moan, and then Potter's hands started wandering as well. 

They were half undressed by the time Lucius walked him backwards from the landing, to the nearest door, and fumbled with the handle. It finally opened, and he half pushed, half pulled, Harry inside. They were in one of the guest bedrooms - he didn't bother to establish exactly which one. All that mattered was that there was a door to close behind them and a bed to throw Harry onto.

"I want you, Lucius!" Harry gasped up at him from where he lay sprawled on top of the duvet. "God, I want you so much. I need you now!"

Lucius stared down at his dishevelled guest - hair messier than ever, jacket off his shoulders, shirt and trouser button undone, cheeks flushed, green eyes pleading... He had never seen anything more desirable in his life.

"You shall have me," he growled, lifting Harry higher up on the bed and covering him there head to toe. He kissed the already flushed, damp lips until they were both breathless, and then he went to work on Harry's neck, alternating between licks and bites, until a continuous stream of pleas and obscenities came out of Harry's mouth.

Agile fingers were tearing at his clothes, scratching at his back, and strong legs hooked over his hips - Potter used them to rut up against him over and over.

Lucius' hand fumbled between them, trying to get inside the suit trousers as quickly as possible, when Harry suddenly gasped, "I love you, Lucius."

It was like a splash of ice water over the back of his head, and Lucius scrambled backwards off the bed, then stood at the edge of it, staring down at the nearly out of his mind, love struck young man. It took him a moment to find his voice. "Harry, you don't love me."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, reaching out a hand. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You did not," said Lucius, setting about putting his clothes back in order. "I did."

"But Lucius, I--"

At that moment, the door to the room burst open simultaneously with a determined "Alohamora!" being shouted, and Draco and Severus Snape rushed into the room.

"Harry!" Draco hurried to his boyfriend, pulling him up off the bed and as far across the room away from his father as he could.

"I take it you did not rape Potter?" Severus Snape's voice was deceptively quiet.

"Of course I didn't," Lucius said dolefully, turning to look at him. "Draco called you?"

"Yes, I did." Draco was fuming. "I knew you'd done something to him, poisoned him maybe! And when I went for the Pepper-Up Potion in your lab, I saw what else you had been brewing. How could you, father? Why?"

"That should be obvious, Draco," drawled Snape. "What I'd like to know is: why did you take Potter up here with you, where there are no witnesses to see him make a fool of himself?"

Lucius shook his head. "Would you believe me if I told you I have no idea?"

Snape frowned.

"Lucius, what are they talking about? Can we go somewhere else? I want to be alone with you." Harry's voice was small and pleading.

"Hush, Harry, you're not yourself," Draco said, folding an arm around Harry's shoulder. "You were given a love potion." He looked at his father grimly.

Harry laughed. "Rubbish. I don't need a potion to love Lucius."

Snape snorted. "Draco, take your boyfriend out of here and get him properly dressed again." He reached into one of his pockets and withdrew a small flask. "And give him this. He'll be back to normal within half an hour, at which point I suggest keeping his wand away from him. I will be having a talk with your father."

Draco did as he was told, though he had a tough time getting Harry to leave the room. He kept reaching out to Lucius.

"Come with me," said Snape, walking out of the room without checking whether Lucius was following him.

He did, of course. They went silently downstairs and through the library into the adjoining lab. There, Snape picked up the nearest jars of ingredients one by one, snorting disdainfully as he checked their labels.

"Which potion did you brew?"

Lucius reached for an ancient tome at the edge of the desk. He opened it, causing dust to fly everywhere, and found the potion he had chosen. He passed the open book to Snape and sank into one of the two armchairs in the room, resting his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees.

Snape observed him closely, and only then did he look down at the book. "You brewed this?"

"Yes," Lucius said. "It seemed as good as any other."

"Oh, I'm sure it is." Snape chuckled, causing Lucius to look up at him with annoyance. "Though for your purpose - assuming your purpose was to humiliate Potter and keep him from becoming a part of your family - it was decidedly the wrong recipe."

"What are you talking about, Severus?" Lucius sighed, resting his head back against the armchair.

Snape looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Lucius, I know you're no potions master. In fact, potions never have been your strong point." There was no argument. "However, you might have taken the time to read between the lines of the love spell to go with this potion."

"Simpering nonsense," said Lucius disdainfully.

"Maybe so." Snape looked at the page and slowly read a couple of the lines: "Then my own dear, come here, come here."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Well, what of it?"

Snape slammed the book shut and set it down on the desk. "Congratulations, Lucius. You've accidentally found your true love."

Lucius stared at him. "You're mad."

"I suspect you've probably lost him at the same time, but then, you won't be able to blame anyone but yourself for that."

He turned to leave when the door burst open, and Harry Potter stormed in with a murderous look in his eyes. Draco stood in the open doorway, glaring at his father, who had risen from the chair when he saw Harry.

Harry stopped dead in front of him and, when their eyes met, there was a moment's hesitation, but then Harry took a deep, steadying breath and slapped Lucius hard across the face, before turning and sweeping past Draco and away through the library. And away from Malfoy Manor.

Draco turned on his heels and followed, and Lucius sank back into the chair. "I suppose I should thank you for asking Draco to take away his wand."

"One day, you might," said Snape after a moment's pause.

* * * * * *

A week went by, then another. And then two more. Draco had yet to answer a single owl or fire call from his father.

Lucius spent a lot of time not thinking about Harry Potter. And waiting. He wasn't sure what for, but he imagined it would involve an Auror or two on the doorstep of the manor and the Wizengamot. Love potions might be largely dismissed as youthful foolishness when used by one teenager on another, but when an adult wizard drugged another, the Ministry of Magic took a much dimmer view.

When someone did finally apparate to his front door on a balmy Tuesday evening, it was no Auror. Bypassing every ward on the door as if they weren't there, Harry Potter entered and walked right past the house elf offering to announce him.

"I'll announce myself, thanks," he said. "Where is your master?"

"Master Lucius is in the library, Master Potter sir." The house elf shrank back. As he closed the door still gently swinging on its hinges, he looked at it curiously.

Harry had kept going, and when he reached the library, he pushed the door open unceremoniously. Lucius, who had been seated in a window alcove with a book on his lap, looked up. His eyes widened.

"Don't say a word," said Harry, and there was definite threat in his voice.

Issuing commands suited Potter, Lucius thought. And while he would under normal circumstances not allow anyone to order him about in his own house, he had rather placed himself at a disadvantage with Potter. He closed his book and placed it on the window sill, and then he rose and awaited his fate.

Potter strode across the room and came to a halt a few feet in front of him. His face looked serious, and his mouth was set in a determined line. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his open coat and looked at Lucius for a long period of time.

Lucius withstood the assessment silently, but his usual detachment and cool were out of his reach, and had been since Severus' damning statement issued in his lab just over a month ago. He settled for appearing calm, as best he could.

Potter's squared posture relaxed into a slight slump of his shoulders, and he began to pace back and forth in front of Lucius as he spoke, which saved him actually meeting Lucius' eyes.

"You'll be pleased to know, I broke up with Draco," was the first thing he said, to Lucius' surprise. "And I didn't contact the Ministry."

Lucius supposed he should feel relieved, at least about the second part of the statement, but somehow, whether or not he was facing prosecution did not seem to be the most important issue here.

"I expect Draco will speak to you again sometime soon." Potter was still pacing, issuing his short sentences with breaks in-between, just as if he was ticking them off a checklist. "You have appalling security; I was able to just walk right through your front door."

Lucius gasped at this, and Harry turned to face him. "What did you say?" asked Lucius, forgetting he had been forbidden to speak.

"If there are wards on your gates or door, they're not working," stated Harry, just as if it didn't really matter. Of course, never having lived in an ancient wizard-owned mansion, he had no way of knowing otherwise. Nor, Lucius admitted, would it be likely to matter to him.

"Snape asked me over for a chat last week." This distracted Lucius from the revelation about the wards, though not as much as the fact that Harry took a step closer to him. "And now we have a problem."

"No," said Lucius softly. He had an unaccustomed flutter of nerves in the region of his solar plexus. "I have a problem. It's nothing for you to worry about."

Harry snorted. "Yeah well, if only that was true."

"What I did was unforgiveable." Lucius sighed. "You should not punish Draco for it, though I thank you for not pressing charges." He thought he ought to reassure Harry. "I promise, I will never touch you again."

Harry looked at him silently for a minute, with a quite unreadable expression. Then he said, "I suppose it's a good thing you're a liar." Lucius blinked. "I broke up with Draco because as it turns out, there are supposed to be fireworks; there weren't with Draco. I'm glad we became friends, and we're still friends, but we don't want to tear each other's clothes off the moment we're alone together."

Lucius' eyes dropped automatically to the undone collar of Harry's shirt. "I see," he said hesitantly. "And why am I not standing before the Wizengamot?"

"That's where Snape's explanation comes in. He told me you were dreadful at mixing potions and, as it turns out, at even picking the right one for the occasion." This drew Lucius' gaze back up again, and Harry was smiling. The bundled nerves in Lucius' midsection were pulling this way and that.

"Snape thinks the idea was to humiliate me in front of Draco, split us up, and get me out of both your lives; is he right?" Lucius nodded. He had no intention of lying his way out of his responsibilities. "So why didn't you? Why did you take me upstairs and start to ravish me? And why did you stop?" Harry stepped even closer, and Lucius found it hard to breathe. "I'm guessing you hadn't sampled your own potion."

"No," Lucius said very softly. His fingers were itching to touch Harry, but he had made a promise.

"Snape thinks you're in love with me. I laughed at him, and he told me there was one sure way to tell without even asking you."

"What did he tell you to do?" Lucius let his fingers brush ever so lightly over the sleeve of Harry's coat; he would never feel that, so he wasn't breaking his promise.

"He told me to walk in your front door. If your wards allowed me in unchallenged, it would mean your magic has attuned itself to mine, and that you love me; something about an ancient spell on the homes of old Wizarding families. Sounds like rubbish to me, but what do you think?" There was challenge and a trace of humour in Harry's bright green eyes; Lucius never wanted them to look at him any other way again. Well... perhaps one other way.

"I think you should have been in Slytherin." 

Harry laughed, warm puffs of breath against Lucius' face. "The Sorting Hat agrees with you." Lucius chuckled. Harry stopped laughing then. "That last promise you made--"

"Yes?" Lucius asked hurriedly.

Harry smiled. "Break it."

Lucius sighed with relief. He cupped Harry's face in his hands, leaned down, and kissed him. He felt Harry's hands move around his back, and the delicious mouth he'd been tasting on his lips for a month opened to him. Merlin, he never thought he would ever be able to do this again! But Harry was here, on his own accord, had slipped into his home and his arms as if he belonged there.

Lucius let go of Harry's face, but only to take his wrists, place his hands on his own shoulders, and lift him onto the sturdy desk right behind them. They were at eye level now, and Lucius bathed in the heat reflected back at him from those eyes as he caressed Harry's cheek, his lips, and then ran his hand down the side of Harry's neck. When he leaned in to kiss the smooth neck, Harry moaned softly, tipping his head to the other side and into the touch of the warm hand. Lucius kissed and nibbled at his neck, brushing his thumb along Harry's chin and then along his bottom lip. He kissed down to the tempting hollow at the base of Harry's neck, when he felt Harry's wet lips close over his sweeping thumb.

Lucius smiled against the damp skin under his lips, allowing Harry to suck on his thumb for as long as he could stand it without irrevocable damage to his clothing, and then he withdrew it with a wet plop and traced it down the centre of Harry's chest as he undid his shirt buttons.

Harry mewled at the loss at first, but held his breath while Lucius worked his way down, only to exhale sharply when Lucius swept the shirt and coat back off his shoulders at once and lowered his mouth to his left nipple.

"Yes," Harry sighed, his fingers in Lucius' hair, holding his head lightly until he could stand the torment no more, and then he gently directed him to the other nipple. Slowly, he was lowered back onto the desk, with Lucius working his way further down over his flat stomach, the crisp line of black hair running down the centre of it, and behind the straining jeans. Harry's hips bucked upwards, as if Lucius wasn't already heading where he wanted his wicked mouth and his exploring fingers. Which were now undoing the jeans and tugging them, along with the underwear, down over Harry's hips.

The library was warm, but Lucius' mouth when it closed over Harry's cock was scorching, and it elicited a deep groan of pleasure. His hands held Harry's hips down as he moved up and down the shaft, keeping the thrusts from choking him. As it was, he took Harry as deep as it was possible, his thumbs tracing the veins underneath whenever he drew back, and cupping and squeezing Harry's balls when he took him down deep again.

"Won't... last," Harry croaked, as if the profound leaking and twitching weren't already giving him away.

Lucius gazed up at him, and when he saw Harry was watching him by supporting himself on his elbows, he gave him a wicked smile around his cock and swallowed him down.

Harry cried out and fell back, filling Lucius' mouth with his release. He lay there, still panting hard, when Lucius eventually let go of him, after a few last cleaning sweeps of his tongue, and moved up to kiss him and share the taste.

Harry seemed to appreciate it too, sighing into the prolonged, salty kiss. All the while, he was fighting his way out of the sleeves still trapping his arms against his sides, and Lucius knew he was free when hurried, fumbling fingers worked open his shirt and started on his trousers. He smiled into the kiss, not interrupting it while he helped Harry to bare most of his upper body and undo his trousers.

"If you'd rather be taken on my bed, now is the time to tell me." Lucius was surprised by the breathlessness in his own voice.

Harry blinked. "Do I look as if I can wait?"

Chuckling, Lucius reached around Harry's waist and drew him up and to the edge of the desk. When their faces were very close, he murmured. "Turn over, it will be easier the first time." He hesitated, "That is--"

Harry grinned. "It is the first time, fumbling attempts aside."

Lucius smiled. "Good."

Harry looked pleased by the reaction, and he hopped off the desk and turned around to face it, leaning forward over it and placing his cheek down on the engraved leather blotter.

"Accio lubricant," Lucius called out and, when Harry chuckled, he asked, "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking... I hope you didn't mix that yourself."

"Cheeky minx," said Lucius, only slightly appalled at the genuine affection in his own voice. He drew Harry's trousers and underpants all the way down and off his hips, and gave his bare bottom a firm smack.

"Bastard!" protested Harry with a smile in his voice. He remained exactly as he was, pale cheeks and submissive pose beckoning.

Lucius caught the arriving lubricant out of midair and applied it to his fingers. It warmed on skin contact, and when he began to apply it to Harry's crack, slowly sliding it up and down in a line, Harry sighed. His opening was still clenched tight though.

"Relax, Harry, let me in," Lucius coaxed gently with his voice while slowly, very slowly, pushing into Harry.

"Please," said Harry, "I don't mind a little pain, just please, keep going."

Lucius smiled. "My pleasure." He cupped one smooth globe with his free hand and pushed a little deeper, and when he met little resistance, he began to thrust his finger in and out. Harry did relax then, and he added a second and third very soon.

"I'm ready," Harry said, his voice strained and raspy.

Lucius didn't need to be told twice. He coated his cock with a generous amount of the salve and slowly began to push in. It was easier than expected, Harry was clearly doing his best to relax into the unaccustomed sensation. Lucius leaned forward a little. "Push back," he prompted.

Harry did, and he slid deeper.

"Merlin!" Harry gasped. His fingers were curling around the far edge of the desk. 

Lucius withdrew a little way, angled his hips slightly, and pushed in again.

Harry cried out, but it didn't sound like pain. "More," he pleaded, proving Lucius right. "All the way, Lucius."

Lucius covered Harry's back with his upper body, his arms with his own, the clutching fingers with his larger hands, and pressed all the way in. Harry whimpered, but pushed back towards him, and he started sliding in and out easily. 

"Oh God, yes," Harry moaned. "Fireworks! Fireworks everywhere!"

Lucius laughed softly and sped up, and Harry met him thrust for thrust, until they were both breathless and sweating, heat spreading between them where their skin was bare, and it became too much to hold back any longer. When Lucius bucked forward, filling Harry, and then instantly reached around and started working Harry's cock again, Harry was not far behind, coming a second time.

They remained slumped across the desk until it became uncomfortable, but even so, when they peeled apart, it was with reluctance.

Harry looked flushed, and his eyes were sparkling. Lucius was shocked to find he wanted him again just as soon as it would be physically possible.

"Your fancy hair is a mess," Harry said, reaching out into the disarrayed long strands and throwing them back over Lucius' shoulders.

Lucius smiled. "You're one to talk."

Harry observed, "My messy hair doesn't seem to put you off."

Lucius ran a hand through Harry's hair, down his face, his neck, and his slightly sweaty chest which, to his amusement, bore the faint imprint of the leather blotter. "It turns out nothing about you puts me off."

Harry looked into his eyes for a long time. "I guess we're full of surprises. I wonder what's next?"

Lucius had a few ideas about that. 

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> The Love Spell which causes so much "trouble" was originally a love spell to find your one true love, to be spoken while sowing a ring of hempseed around a church. I adapted it to go with a potion and made other minor changes, or it truly would have made Lucius puke.


End file.
